


taking risks and passing out

by keithundead



Series: rootin tootin hunter boyos [3]
Category: JONAS, Jonas Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Monster Hunters, Supernatural Elements, and killed stella in the process, i have yet to see good stacy content so i did it myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithundead/pseuds/keithundead
Summary: i needed a fic with a fall out boy title eventually, so here it is :)





	1. teenage vows in a parking lot, or: joe gets vored against his will

“‘Let’s take a job right after a _ showwww’ _ he says, ‘it won’t be that big of a _ deeeeal _, he says.’”

Kevin shoves him, not hard enough to push him into the water behind them, but hard enough to make Joe push him back. Joe continues to mock and blow raspberries, and Kevin continues to physically assault. Nick scolds them both, pushing past the bickering duo to knock a loose board down with the stock of his shotgun.

They’re all tired, which is a given. Kevin was “tipped off” earlier by a fan during a meet and greet. He didn’t want to bring it up at first, considering they hadn’t been on a job in a while. After long hours of convincing himself it was a good idea (and packing Joe’s crossbow), he led them to sneak out of the tour bus after the show; something about that confession didn’t sit right with him.

~

_ “Oh my goodness! You’re- you’re real!” she practically squealed; it was an innocent, endearing exclamation from the last person in line. _

_ She wrapped her arms around Kevin first, giving him a quick hug after she’d confessed her bewilderment. He always liked meeting fans, each experience felt different. She gave another set of enthusiastic hugs to Joe and Nick, saying over and over how happy she was to “finally meet the, like, _ cutest _ band in the world.” For the moment, it felt as good as any other meet-up. _

_ Until she started crying. _

_Joe was the first to sweep by her side, offering genuine “it’s okay”s and “you don’t have to cry”s, his typical Joe-style of sensitivity completely overwhelming him. Loads of fans got hysterical at the _sight _of them in public, none of them were upset. Nick even offered a timid “we’re happy to meet you too” to try and soothe her, but it seemed to make things worse as she began to sob into his_ _shoulder. _

_ “I’m- I’m sorry,” she was lucky to be the last person in the line up, security would’ve sent her out with a tear stained photograph and nothing more. _

_ “Hey, don’t worry about it!” Kevin spoke while Joe tried to gently pry her off of Nick’s neck, “no one’s mad at you, promise.” _

_ “No, I know, it’s just that…” her harsh sobs turned into gentle hiccups, and she was sniffling between every other word, “I was supposed to be here wi- with my- my girlfriend.” _

_ They all shared sympathetic looks, they knew what _ that _ meant. It wasn’t a mystery to them if they’d pick up a case during these, but it wasn’t pleasant to deal with either. Most of the time, people had dead friends that wanted to meet them more than anything. It was even _ more _ devastating if someone passed due to… eerily unnatural causes. _

_ “What’s her name, uh...?” Joe started leaning down to her height a bit to make up for the lack of eye contact. _

_ “Macy.” she huffed out. _

_ “Joe, don't-” Nick scolded. _

_ “Guys,” Kevin gave them the I’m-the-oldest-so-do-what-I-say look, “let’s get her the picture alright?” _

_ With that, her eyes went from tearful to utter delight in seconds. _

_ Their photo-op was bittersweet, to say the least. Kevin swore he saw Nick wiping his eyes at one point, but he knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. The clicks and flashes from the camera were enough to make him tense for the rest of the night. Sensory-irritated Nick isn’t good for anyone. Poor guy. _

_ It came time for her to ask for autographs from each of them. They learned after a group hug beforehand that Macy had been following their tour since day one, but this would be her only chance of meeting them. Joe signed a poster, Nick signed her journal, and Kevin signed a picture of her with some other girl. He smiled, she must’ve been the girlfriend that was meant to be here, how sweet. _

_ “And who am I making this out to?” Kevin earned a oh-so-it’s-okay-when-YOU-ask look from Joe, but he couldn’t help himself after getting to know her a bit. _

_ She stilled at first, blushing bright red, then spoke a soft “Macy and, um, Stella.” _

_ He had a name now: Stella. The quickest glance at the nearest fansite or news article would let him know if anything suspicious caused her passing. No doubt the other two would be reluctant to go hunting, but he’ll be damned if he goes alone. _

_ That’s how Joe woke up with yesterday’s paper on his face. _

~

They’re standing behind an uninhabited shack on the edge of a pier; Nick’s still hacking away at the boards used to patch up some sort of man-shaped hole. The trio came across the place via newspaper headline “_ Beloved Teen Found Dead Outside of Miami Beach Housing Facility, _ ” which _ obviously _meant Kevin had to drag them out of their bunks at midnight, drive them out to sea, and force them to walk until they found it. 

“So, you say she was alone?” Joe yawns.

“Yep,” Kevin sighs, still exhausted from the walk himself, “paper says she was biking home after spending a night out, then she just… y’know the rest.” He can’t bring himself to recount the sickening contortion of her body from that article, so he settles for a gulp and looks back down at the sand.

Joe nods, then pats his shoulder. “What about the house?” 

“Widow died about ten years ago,” he sounds deflated at this point, “naturally, folks have been passin’ legends around since then.”

“Looks like they’re true, huh?”

Kevin nods, the imagery of Stella’s dead body still playing like a broken VHS tape in the back of his mind. He can’t even bring himself to _ believe _ that the news would write it off as a damn _ car accident. _

“So, I’m gonna guess everyone who’s died here have been young, blonde broads too?” Joe concludes, then chuckles to himself at the remark. “This chick has a type.”

Nick sighs, then puts his gun back inside his shoulder holster, a clear signal that he’s done with the drywall layer. “Alright, crybabies, move on in” earns a genuine shove from Joe.

“Dude, seriously? That may as well be a crawl space.” he complains.

“You’d better get to crawlin’, then.”

~

The shed isn’t even that big, but they still manage to get lost in between the dusty furniture. Everything looks… devastating; the chairs are broken, the windows are barred, and not a single bed had sheets, frames, or stainless mattresses. This dump looks like the aftermath of a poltergeist infestation.

“Hey,” Nick shouts, “check this out.”

Kevin and Joe walk towards the sound of his voice. Where Nick stands, there’s a door; Kevin inwardly prays for it _ not _to be the locked front door. Nick, however, glares him dead in the eye with his arms crossed. He’s tapping his foot in that disappointed younger brother fashion, oh dear.

“Open the door, Joe.” Nick says nonchalantly, where there _ were _a multitude of locks on the hinge, it looks like they’d been... broken.

Joe twists the doorknob, then pulls the door open. “You’re _ kidding. _” 

They walk in together, and they see the front of the shed. _Fuck_. Nick looks the most irritated out of them- of _course_ there’s nothing there. They all groan in disappointment at the empty cement road and familiar scent of the ocean. Kevin feels like an idiot, too, for jumping to the first conclusion he saw.

“I gotta hand it to you, Kev,” Nick’s face is in a tight grimace as he speaks, “this isn’t your _ wildest _goose chase.”

The remark makes him roll his eyes, _ it was _ one _ time _ ! There was… something about _ this _ that still felt off: the newspaper, the history of the shed, the victims, nothing about it made a lick of sense. 

“Alright, Nick, lay off- AH!” 

There’s a scream from Joe, followed by the wood floor underneath him to collapse. He’s hanging on by the tips of his fingers, trying to pull himself up. Kevin and Nick can see him slipping, but only Joe’s fingers are visible, and the hole is too small for the two of them to pull him back up. Nick tries to use his shotgun to break the loose wood around Joe, but it leaves a dent on his gun almost immediately.

“Shit,” Nick throws down his gun, “Joe! Can you hear us?”

“UH… YEAH?” 

“Can you see anything?” Kevin shouts, trying to make out the inside the hole with the sliver of moonlight above them.

“I WISH I COULDN’T, HONESTLY!” his voice is trembling at this point, and it sounds like he’ll be falling at any minute now.

Below the hole, there’s a piercing roar. Kevin and Nick cover their ears, and the shack begins to rumble. Kevin sees Joe’s fingers gradually slip further and further beneath the surface- _ this isn’t good _. Joe falls beneath the “ground” and hits whatever is below it with a thud, Kevin’s stomach churns at the sound.

“KEV!” Nick yells, hands still over his ears, “YOU KNOW WHAT WE’RE DEALING WITH?”

Loud, random screeching… mention of a _ dead _ widow… _ female _ victims… he swears he knows what it is, but he can’t place his finger on- _ oh fuck. _

Joe’s gonna get eaten by a motherfucking banshee.


	2. brothers till the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read notes at the end first for tw's, enjoy!

Joe’s gonna have busted ears tomorrow. For sure.

The old woman before him won’t stop screeching at the top of her lungs. He has no  _ idea  _ what kind of monster this is, but he knows it’s a rogue species. Rogues are the fucking worst, they only kill for the sake of killing. There’s no ritual, no cause-  _ just loud fucking screeching that’ll take me four months to recover from! _

“JOE!” that’s Kevin, probably. “WE’RE GONNA GET YOU OUTTA THERE, BUDDY!”

He misses the reassurance of knowing that his brothers are okay, he can’t get back up to save his life, but if it’s to save theirs’? He’d  _ find _ a way up.

Joe still has his hands pressed against his ears, he can barely hear Kevin, but he’s glad to know that help might be on the way. All he can do now is stay in his kneeling position, trying to keep his head up as the woman continues to make his ears ring. He’d reach for his gun, except it got ripped from his holster by whatever telekinetic fuckery the lady used on him.

“DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR GUN,” that was Nick, most likely. “YOU NEED GOLD!”

Most-likely-Nick’s instructions made no sense to him, yet he still needed his gun. He felt like an idiot for letting it get away. 

Fucking damn, he  _ always  _ carried silver and gold bullets, but the fucking shebeast making his eardrums burst took it away from him. As she drew near, Joe felt his eyes water. The presence… the  _ noise-  _ now he knew how Nick felt. Oh god-  _ Nick.  _ All the noise, the screeching, Kevin shouting, and (from what Joe can gather) debris crumbling around him… Nick must be in sensory hell. He has to get up, he has to protect his brother.

“DON’T WORRY YOU GUYS,” Joe catches a glimpse of something sparkling out of the corner of his eye, “I GOT THIS.” 

Even he knew that he definitely did not “have this,” but he’d never let his brothers know that he’s a fuck up.

-

Nick tries to get his grip, but everything is too much. Kevin tries to talk to him about how in the hell they’re supposed to help Joe, Joe sounds like he’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and that godforsaken banshee is making him want to cry. If her scream really  _ is  _ a death omen, he can only worry in complete terror as to what this could mean for them. He doesn’t want them to die.

Kevin rests a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Hey,” he offers a pained smile, “we’re gonna get out of this.” That’s the voice Mom uses whenever they go on a hunt as a family, the voice she used on Nick the first time he caught them all, when he- oh fuck. He’s crying, isn’t he?

Nick hasn’t noticed that he’s been crying,  _ goddamn sensory overload _ , until Kevin brushes a tear off his face. Nick sniffs, clearing his throat and peering down the hole. He saw Joe down there on the ground, crawling towards a busted pile of glass.

“Kev.” Nick says, going back to the details of the case they were investigating. He had a hunch, but he hoped it was  _ just  _ a hunch and nothing more.

“Yeah?” 

“Didn’t you say the police thought the vic, y’know…” his memories of being woken up late in the night by Kevin kicked in, and he had to stop himself from gagging at the images of the girl- Stella, her name is Stella- in that… position. Eugh. 

“Committed?” Kevin’s eyes widened with terror. “No, you can’t be serious-”

“You don’t think Joe would…?” it’s ridiculous to assume, yet they’d be nothing without assumptions. 

“Nick, listen to me, this banshee is a rogue,” he gave another reassuring glance to his younger brother, “not a ghost, not an ancient spirit, nothing like that. It  _ wants  _ to kill.”

He breathes in deep, trying to push the thought of Joe using that glass for something like  _ that  _ out of his mind. He’s always had intrusive thoughts, but he never had anything about his brothers dying of their own causes. If Joe’s gone, so is the team, and the tour would be over in the blink of an eye. For the purpose of keeping the band in the cookie cutter public eye, Joe is  _ not  _ dying on his watch. Neither is Kevin.

“Right, right.” he sighed, “nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Well, something could happen, but not Joe punching his own ticket. Which is why we need to get down there and help him out.” Kevin got up at that, searching for the flashlight Joe dropped on his way down. 

Nick sat near the hole, trying to focus on the energy of the scream to concoct some type of vision from it. The frequencies are off, as he usually does this in quiet, but he can shut his eyes and take hold of enough ground as he can. The more Nick focuses, he can shut out every other distraction around him. He can hear her now, not screaming or yelling, but weeping, wailing even. The banshee is… crying? She’s weeping for… for something? For Nick to hear her? For the death of one of them that is (hopefully not) soon to come? He feels like fainting, but as the noises begin to lower in volume, he feels a vision coming on.

He sits in a petrified posture, feeling the electric cold wash over him. The tips of his fingers attract small bursts of electricity, the feeling is nothing new. As he connects to the mind of the banshee, he begins to hear… her voice.

_ YOU MUST SUFFER FOR WHAT YOU DID, WALLACE. _

_ SUFFER, SUFFER, SUFFER. _

_ I WILL MAKE YOU PAY. I’LL KILL YOU KILL YOU KILL YOU. _

_ I’LL KILL YOU, I’LL KILL THAT WHORE OF A DAUGHTER. _

_ YOU MUST SUFFER. _

_ SUFFER, SUFFER, SUFFER. _

Nick gasps, seeing the room around him for what it is instead of the tragic hellscape of a banshee’s mind.

“Kevin- KEV!” he shouts, scrambling to his feet to grab his older brother’s shoulders.

“Hey man- wh-?” as he’s about to ask his question, Nick interrupts him.

“You were wrong. Or, um, right? You were right at first, dude.”

Kevin shakes his head, “what are you  _ talking  _ about?”

They both turn at the sound of shattering from below, running back to the hole to see what the fuck Joe’s done. The screeching… it’s stopped. Nick peers into the hole to see him doing something he never thought possible: stabbing his own reflection.

-

He’s been crawling for some time now, scuttling along the floor of the room while the old lady belts her lungs out over his shoulder. She must know where his mind is headed, because as soon as he reaches for a pile of shattered glass she grabs his shoulder and twists him around.

The struggle between them felt like it was straight out of a movie; Joe’s in a pulling match with a shard of glass, it digs deep in his hands and when he finally yanks it from her reach, he drives the metal end of it into her heart. She backs away with a painful yell, and Joe knows what he’s gotta do.

He needs to find her last connection to the human world.

_ If she backed away from the metal… it must be iron! _ He thinks to himself, taking advantage of the distance between them. He knows what she is: a ghost. He’s familiar with this, he’s actually got this. He shuffles to the frame of glass ( _ glass with a frame… a mirror! _ ) from the pile, then grabs it by the rounded metal bits that aren’t broken. Inside the mirror, he sees a horrible image of himself; he’s scratched up from where the ghost fought him when he fell in, ears bloody from the piercing noise, and- his hair! Oh, not his hair, of all things-  _ why my hair?! _ It’s in shambles, to say the least, tangled and twisted and bloody, not to mention nearly cut short by him rolling around in broken glass. For now, he set his mind aside from how  _ totally not _ hot he looks, and read the etching on the frame.

_ To my dear Lucy, as a reminder to you, whose smile reflects on me. _

_ Jeez,  _ Joe nearly retches,  _ I hope  _ I  _ never get that sappy with my future spouse.  _ While caught up in his train of thought, the old hag appears in front of him again, screaming with such vehement passion that Joe decided he needs to act now, and with that, he drives his shard into the hole it broke off from, watching the metal backing ooze with blood.

“Looks like this vanity’s gettin’ some modesty.” cringing at his inexperienced one liner, Joe continues to press deep into the (now flesh-y) mirror and watch as the woman disappears in front of him. The glass breaks in his hand, causing him to yelp from the pain, but at least he could collapse to the ground in peace.

-

Nick looks down in horror as Joe falls to the ground. It seems like he’s taken care of the source of the screaming, but now he’s even more worried for him. Right then, he saw his brother make his way (crawling on his elbows, ouch) to where the hole in the ground aligns with Nick’s sight of him. He looks up at him and smiles, giving him a thumbs up, then proceeds to knock out cold on the concrete.

“Shit.” Kevin whispers.

“SHIT!” Nick yells, the sight of Kevin’s bleeding ears makes him reach for his own. “Dude, we’re bleeding!”

“Huh. That’s definitely never happened to us before.” Kevin retorts with sarcasm,  _ glad to know we’re all gonna be back to annoying each other. _

“Shut the fuck up, man.” Nick slaps him, “if we go on stage like this,” he checks his watch-  _ 4am, _ “which, may I add, is in less than  _ five  _ hours, Mom’s gonna kill us before anything else in this fucking  _ cabin  _ does!”

“Are you really worried about the tour  _ right now _ ?”

“I seem to be the only one!” he raises his arms in protest, beginning to pack up his gun and spare knife.

“ _ Dude, _ ” Kevin mocks, “we don’t have a rope.”

“What in the fresh fuck does a rope have to do with anything  _ Kevin _ ?!”

“Well how else are we gonna get Joe out of the  _ ground _ ?”

Nick’s about to protest again, when reality strikes him: their brother is in a hole.

“That,” Nick says with shame, “is a good question.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood, wounds, sensory overload


End file.
